I distinctly remember the telephone call. My Dad had locked the keys in the bakkie and between him and a very good friend of mine, (whom we shall have to call "Bob") they proceeded to completely dismantle the locking mechanism of the drivers side door. The vehicle had originally had an immobiliser, a gear lock and two functioning locks fitted to each door. The immobiliser had, had to be dismantled (at my cost, I might add) since my father had supposedly lost the keys that had the mechanism which allowed you to start the car. Then the gear lock had been destroyed by a locksmith after Bob had lost the other set of keys, which contained the key to open said gear lock. Naturally, his children took the blame and though it was them who had sinned, in a gesture worthy of the noblest of gods Bob paid for half of the locksmith's fees. I, of course, paid the other half. In a bizarre twist of fate, soon thereafter both my Dad and Bob found the keys which they swore had been lost. To this day, however, they vehemently blame each other for messing up the car door lock.
Be this as it may, the truth of it was that I was no longer able to lock the bakkie and so the situation remained for two and a half years thereafter. Part of the problem was that in a gesture of extreme goodwill my Dad had used steel putty to glue the window winder to the little thingy that it turns when the window goes up or down. This, of course made taking the door panel off to fix the lock impossible because let me assure you, steel putty live up to its' name.
It was against this backdrop, then, that my adventure unfolded. My work as an articled clerk took me to some of Johannesburg's dingiest spots. At least two or three times a week I would have to attend at the Johannesburg Magistrates Court and/or the High Court, where I would be obliged to park on the street. Now for those of you who have never visited either of those grand bastions of justice, I can assure you that they are not housed in the type of areas where one would feel safe raising a family. Also being somewhat of a cheap fellow and a very poorly paid one, the R10.00 parking areas were never an option. That then, is how I began and continued parking the van on the side of the road, unlocked, at every single destination I visited, for two and a half years. I would simply close the door, say a prayer and go about my business.
I will admit that it was incredibly liberating. The bitter yolk of suspicion and fear which almost every South African is forced to carry on a daily basis was dealt a grievous blow. You see, I had come to terms with the fact that the vehicle was as good as stolen and that being the case, why worry about the inevitable. Every time I returned to the car, I would think, 'Well at least today I get to drive myself home and not walk.' I often left the car windows open at night and more often than you would believe possible I would forget the keys in the ignition too! Yup, I'd get back to the vehicle, open the door and there they would be hanging. It became a joking point amongst my friends and passengers would stare aghast as I simply closed the door, and with a shrug of my shoulders explain that I never locked my door.
I have been held up at gun point, my life has been threatened more than once and I have been at the receiving end of more than my fair share of petty crime. Indeed, I am not blind to the fact that crime is a painfully real phenomenon in South Africa. Why then, such apparent folly in the face of this great threat? It is simple, I agree with the hypothesis proposed by the great Dr Viktor Frankl. Mankind's ultimate freedom lies in our ability to choose. I have no power over the choices other people exercise. I will not choose for others nor will I allow them to choose for me. God respects all free will and so will I. If someone has decided that they will steal my property or cause harm to my physical being, then that is a decision they have made and there is not too much I can do about that. High walls and locks do about as much to deter a criminal as a wrapper around a chocolate deters a hungry snacker.
I will use my freedom to choose a life of open doors, carefree living and walking with that cheeky little swagger that comes with knowing I am not scared to be stolen from. Since, if you do, I will simply forgive you for having done so. If the price of that comes at losing my stuff, then so be it! I will gladly wager every possession I own against enjoying an existence without fear and though it cost me all I have, I know that having enjoyed this freedom, I am receiving the better deal.
Be this as it may, the truth of it was that I was no longer able to lock the bakkie and so the situation remained for two and a half years thereafter. Part of the problem was that in a gesture of extreme goodwill my Dad had used steel putty to glue the window winder to the little thingy that it turns when the window goes up or down. This, of course made taking the door panel off to fix the lock impossible because let me assure you, steel putty live up to its' name.
It was against this backdrop, then, that my adventure unfolded. My work as an articled clerk took me to some of Johannesburg's dingiest spots. At least two or three times a week I would have to attend at the Johannesburg Magistrates Court and/or the High Court, where I would be obliged to park on the street. Now for those of you who have never visited either of those grand bastions of justice, I can assure you that they are not housed in the type of areas where one would feel safe raising a family. Also being somewhat of a cheap fellow and a very poorly paid one, the R10.00 parking areas were never an option. That then, is how I began and continued parking the van on the side of the road, unlocked, at every single destination I visited, for two and a half years. I would simply close the door, say a prayer and go about my business.
I will admit that it was incredibly liberating. The bitter yolk of suspicion and fear which almost every South African is forced to carry on a daily basis was dealt a grievous blow. You see, I had come to terms with the fact that the vehicle was as good as stolen and that being the case, why worry about the inevitable. Every time I returned to the car, I would think, 'Well at least today I get to drive myself home and not walk.' I often left the car windows open at night and more often than you would believe possible I would forget the keys in the ignition too! Yup, I'd get back to the vehicle, open the door and there they would be hanging. It became a joking point amongst my friends and passengers would stare aghast as I simply closed the door, and with a shrug of my shoulders explain that I never locked my door.
I have been held up at gun point, my life has been threatened more than once and I have been at the receiving end of more than my fair share of petty crime. Indeed, I am not blind to the fact that crime is a painfully real phenomenon in South Africa. Why then, such apparent folly in the face of this great threat? It is simple, I agree with the hypothesis proposed by the great Dr Viktor Frankl. Mankind's ultimate freedom lies in our ability to choose. I have no power over the choices other people exercise. I will not choose for others nor will I allow them to choose for me. God respects all free will and so will I. If someone has decided that they will steal my property or cause harm to my physical being, then that is a decision they have made and there is not too much I can do about that. High walls and locks do about as much to deter a criminal as a wrapper around a chocolate deters a hungry snacker.
I will use my freedom to choose a life of open doors, carefree living and walking with that cheeky little swagger that comes with knowing I am not scared to be stolen from. Since, if you do, I will simply forgive you for having done so. If the price of that comes at losing my stuff, then so be it! I will gladly wager every possession I own against enjoying an existence without fear and though it cost me all I have, I know that having enjoyed this freedom, I am receiving the better deal.
Learn how to pick locks!
ReplyDelete